Josephine approached the unconscious girl, her heart heavy with a tumultuous blend of curiosity and concern. As she gazed down at the delicate figure sprawled before her, her brow furrowed in contemplation. "Who could she be?" she whispered, her voice a haunting echo in the quiet room, laced with an air of mystique. "A noble lady, perhaps?" she mused aloud, yet her eyes betrayed a flicker of skepticism as she took in the girl's simple garb, which spoke volumes of her humble origins.
Arnold, standing nearby, cleared his throat, his expression a tumult of urgency and regret. "She was found in the woods by my brother-in-law and nephew, your highness," he began, his tone laden with an apology. "I regret to inform you that she has remained in this state for days now, and my sister-in-law is beginning to worry—"
But before he could finish, Josephine raised a slender finger, her eyes narrowing with a fierce determination. "I won't tell anyone." The words tumbled from her lips with an unexpected fervor, surprising both men. The unspoken understanding hung palpably in the air: should she divulge this secret, the world would undoubtedly deem her a fool. She harbored no desire to invite ridicule upon herself.
Lucian, who had remained a silent sentinel until now, stepped forward. His voice was steady, imbued with a sense of urgency that resonated through the room. "We need Aetherbloom root to rouse her from this slumber. There are times when a coma can stretch for years; however, with the root, she could awaken within a day." His words lingered heavily in the air, a promise wrapped in desperation.
As Josephine's gaze fell upon the delicate bracelets adorning the girl's wrists, her eyes widened in recognition, a flicker of shock igniting within her. The ornaments shimmered faintly, holding secrets of their own, and in that moment, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirled within her. Arnold, noticing the sudden shift in her demeanor, leaned closer, concern etching his features. "Is there something wrong, your highness? Does this room unsettle you? I must admit, it is quite untidy," he stammered, his voice wavering under the weight of her intense scrutiny.
Lucian shot Arnold a death glare, urging him to tread carefully, but Josephine remained entranced by the unfurling mystery before her, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a tempest. The air crackled with tension, and the fate of the unconscious girl dangled precariously in the balance.
"Ah, no, no. It's nothing," Josephine replied, her voice steadier than she felt, as if she were donning a mask of composure. She adjusted her posture, dispelling the weight of her thoughts. "Who will search for the Aetherbloom?" she inquired, her eyes narrowing with purpose, a determination igniting within her.
"I will, your highness," Arnold answered promptly, his resolve firm.
"Then you shall embark on a mission to procure the root under my orders," she declared, her voice carrying an authoritative weight that brooked no argument. "You will present it as a mere addition to my collection, to avoid raising any suspicion."
"Yes, your highness," Arnold replied, bowing slightly, a glimmer of gratitude shining in his eyes.
Both Arnold and Lucian felt an overwhelming sense of appreciation for her intervention. It was evident that Princess Josephine had undergone a profound transformation, evolving from the sheltered royal they once knew. Lucian found himself warming to this new version of her; perhaps now he would no longer tremble at the prospect of crossing paths with her in the hallways or the library.
That very day, Arnold, accompanied by a handful of knights, departed under the princess's command. Meanwhile, Josephine remained seated on the edge of her bed, lost in a tempest of thoughts. Six months had passed since she had transmigrated into this unfamiliar world. Just seventeen years old, she had been on the cusp of graduating from the prestigious Space Academy when fate had claimed her unexpectedly. In that moment, she had lost all her technological possessions, yet in their stead, she had gained the arcane art of magic.
The girl lying unconscious before her was unmistakably of the same origin as Josephine. The bracelets that adorned her wrists sparked a memory that sent a shiver down Josephine's spine, stirring the depths of her recollections. They served as a poignant reminder of her past life, yet an unsettling question lingered in her mind: why had those same tokens of their shared world not accompanied her into this new existence?
Once the girl awoke, Josephine's heart raced at the thought of the questions she would pose—perhaps, together, they could unravel the mysteries of their intertwined fates and discover a path back home. The prospect filled her with an exhilarating hope, a flame igniting within her that caused her spirit to soar.
She missed her family and friends, aching for the connections that once grounded her. This world she now inhabited felt devoid of joy; there were no electronic devices, no internet to connect her to the familiar, and the people around her viewed her with disdain. Although she felt a flicker of excitement at the discovery of her magical abilities, it paled in comparison to the power she had wielded before her transmigration.